


The Blood Rose

by Lady_Phenyx



Series: Whumptober 2019 [27]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Blood, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2021-01-01 23:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Mr. Hemulen has been given charge of a very rare rose - the Blood Rose. No one knows anything about it, but if anyone can discover its secrets, everyone believes Mr. Hemulen can.It turns out they should have paid attention to the superstitions about the flower.Whumptober Day 23: Bleeding Out





	The Blood Rose

“It's a very rare breed of rose,” Mr. Hemulen continued, proudly. “That's why it's been sent to me to study! And the Institute believes that the climate of Moomin Valley will be very good to it, as well.”

“It's a great honor,” Snufkin agreed. He had been wandering the valley, doing little more than stretching his legs, when Mr. Hemulen had called out to him, eager to show someone the new rose he'd been sent. And Snufkin was just the patient audience he needed as he fluttered over his new rose.

It was planted in pride of place by Mr. Hemulen's house, in a huge container on wheels so Mr. Hemulen could move it about and find out exactly how much light it liked.

“Oh yes, it doesn't even have a name yet,” Mr. Hemulen said. “A great honor and a great responsibility! Or at least, it doesn't have a scientific name yet,” he added, correcting his earlier statement. “Apparently, it used to grow only on a few isolated islands, but the people who lived there had almost destroyed it entirely! They called it something that apparently translated to “Blood Rose” and all they would tell anyone was to stay away from it. They said it could move under special circumstances, but they wouldn't say more about it, they just had a great many superstitions about it.”

“Maybe they had a good reason,” Snufkin suggested, a touch concerned.

Mr. Hemulen laughed lightly. “Oh, it's probably something like the color of the flowers,” he said, waving off Snufkin's concern. “But we aren't sure. It hasn't bloomed since it left the island, or for quite a while before that it seems, and no one can seem to really make it thrive.”

The two looked at the rose bush. It was as large as Snufkin, and a deep, vivid green. It had a number of small, saw toothed leaves as well as needle sharp thorns, a great multitude of small but vicious thorns, but looked rather stick like all the same.

Mr. Hemulen looked down at the rose, his fists clenched in determination. “Just wait, Snufkin. I'm going to find out how to make this rose the healthiest, most beautiful flower in all Moomin Valley!”

“I'm sure you will, Mr. Hemulen,” Snufkin agreed encouragingly.

\---XXX---

Mr. Hemulen babied the new rose. A variety of fertilizers, different volumes of water, moved to catch no sun, all sun, medium sun, experiments with different foods and water levels and changes to the acidity of the soil.

It lived, still a vibrant green, but did not bloom. And most certainly did not move.

It wouldn't have been the first plant that they'd seen move in Moomin Valley, but it was still disappointing that it wasn't responding to Mr. Hemulen's efforts.

Still, it was growing and thriving, for the most part.

It was bigger than Snufkin now, taller than Moominpappa, towering over everyone's heads, and Mr. Hemulen needed help when he wanted to change its position for a different amount of sun.

It seemed to Snufkin as though the vines reached for them at times, but it could have been a swaying in the wind, and so he didn't mention it to Mr. Hemulen. He didn't want to get Mr. Hemulen's hopes up when it had been such small motion, something that could have just been the breeze. It seemed...unkind.

\---XXX---

Botanists from the Institute came to look at the Blood Rose, comparing its size and health to how it had been when it had been sent to Mr. Hemulen.

The Blood Rose was still thriving, and Mr. Hemulen glowed for days under the praises they had heaped upon him. It seemed he was the first to get it so healthy.

He still had yet to find a way to get it to bloom, and was despairing about that, swinging between the two extremes as the days passed.

\---XXX---

Stinky shoved again at the huge pot.

People had been trying to buy the Blood Rose off of Mr. Hemulen once word had gotten out about how rare it was, but he'd refused each time. What a fool! He could make a fortune off this pile of twigs!

If only it weren't so heavy!

Abruptly it started moving, and Stinky inched it along, having learned from the giant pumpkin not to try for speed with huge things on wheels.

He got a good ways down the road before voices called his name, and he glanced back before shoving into a panicked run.

\---XXX---

Mr. Hemulen had been at tea at Moomin House, but a group led by Mrs. Fillyjonk had come seeking him out, asking to see the Blood Rose. A gardening club she had formed, who had decided on a whim to come see if he would show it to them.

So they set off towards Mr. Hemulen's, with Moominpappa, Moominmamma, Snufkin, Moomin, Snorkmaiden, Snork, and Little My with them.

Only to find Stinky trying to wheel the Blood Rose away.

They yelled out his name almost as one, and Moomin, Snorkmaiden, Little My, and Snufkin set off after him.

The chase was short – Stinky couldn't keep his momentum going on the flat ground, and the group reached him before he could hit a hill.

Stinky took off for the woods as soon as they were close enough to catch him, and the foursome concentrated on stopping the Blood Rose before disaster could strike.

Stinky could wait.

They started wheeling it back, the rest of the group coming to meet them, when Snufkin sucked in a sharp breath.

“Thorns,” he said shortly when the others turned to see what was wrong. “Huh, I'm bleeding, guess they're sharper than I thought.”

The vines rustled, and they paused to look up at them. The vines moved again, stretching and twinging around each other, and the vine that had pricked Snufkin disappeared inside the rest as they rubbed against each other restlessly.

“They're moving! How wonderful!” Mr. Hemulen exclaimed.

At the side of the tub, Snufkin stared up at the vines, not noticing as one of them began coiling around his wrist loosely.

Until it brushed against his skin and he glanced down.

“Mr. Hemulen? Is it supposed to...” He was cut off by a scream as the vine snapped tight around his wrist, the thorns digging into the skin.

Blood sprang up around the thorns, and the vine flexed, almost as though it were absorbing the blood, drinking it through the thorns.

Everyone had frozen and startled at the sound of Snufkin's scream, so abrupt, so unexpected, a sound they hadn't realized he could make.

“Mr. Hemulen!” he cried as the rose vine tightened around his wrist, pulling him closer to the mass of vines that was the rest of the plant, all of them moving now, reaching toward Snufkin. “Moomin! Help!”

Moomin and Snorkmaiden flew around to Snufkin's side of the plant, calling out in shock when they saw what had happened, followed closely by the rest. They grabbed onto Snufkin, pulling him away from the plant, his arm stretched between them and the plant as the vine kept hold.

The vine only gave so far before it snapped taunt and pulled upwards, forcing another scream from Snufkin as the vines dug in farther, pulling on his arm relentlessly.

Blood began to drip down his wrist and across his paw, his knees going weak from the pain.

“Oh dear, oh dear...Snufkin, hold on!” Mr. Hemulen cried, setting off for his house at top speed.

As he did, a second vine snapped out of the mass. It whipped around Snufkin's free wrist, yanking him off his feet and out of Moomin and Snorkmaiden's arms.

They stumbled and nearly fell, grabbing again for Snufkin as the rose lifted him bodily off the ground, hanging in midair by his wrists. He screamed again, his wrists afire as blood streamed down from the thorn wounds, staining the sleeves of his smock in thin rivulets.

Snufkin twisted and fought to get free but it did little more than make him twist against their grip.

More vines whipped out from the bush, lashing around Snufkin's waist, around his ankles and stealing up his legs to the knee, digging into the skin through his trousers and taking some of the weight off his wrists, but it wasn't a relief, not with them digging into his legs as well now. The layers of clothing, smock and shirt combined, protected him at the waist, but he couldn't lower his arms, couldn't get free, and it hurt so much he couldn't stop the small, animal sounds of pain that escaped him as it held him in midair.

The people Mrs. Fillyjonk had brought were screaming, as was Mrs. Fillyjonk, while the Moomins and Snorks and Little My tore at the rose's tub, struggling to find a way to make it let Snufkin go.

It lashed out at them, snapping out to keep them away, vines whipping at the people around the tub, and began dragging Snufkin towards the heart of the bush, where the rest of the vines rustled hungrily.

Blood dripped down from Snufkin's abused wrists, caught by the vines before it could hit the ground as he hung limply from them, shaking with pain, no longer able to even scream or fight.

Mr. Hemulen came pounding up the road, hedge clippers in paw.

“Moominpappa!” he called, throwing a second set to Moominpappa.

He lunged at the rose, the hedge clippers letting out a loud snicker-snack as he aimed at the vines holding Snufkin.

He caught the ones holding Snufkin's wrists, the clippers severing one after another, yelling as he did, “You let him go! You let him go right now!”

The rose reared back in pain, and the clippers sang out again as he and Moominpappa attacked the vines holding Snufkin.

The last of the vines let go, retreating back into the bush.

Moomin caught Snufkin as he fell, dragging him away from the rose and to Moominmamma.

Snufkin clutched at his still bleeding wrists, kneeling on the ground between Moomin and Moominmamma, curled around himself in pain, his harsh, gasping breaths echoing in the shocked silence as Moominpappa and Mr. Hemulen backed away from the rose.

“Look,” Mrs. Fillyjonk said, awe and horror in her voice.

Even Snufkin raised his tear-streaked face to see.

Buds were appearing all over the rose, and they burst forth, revealing huge red blooms one after another.

“Red flowers,” Mr. Hemulen said slowly. “Red as...blood. Blood Roses. Snufkin's blood.”

Snorkmaiden bent over Snufkin along with Moominmamma as Moomin stood between them and the rose, looking at Snufkin's wrists.

“We need to get these cleaned and bandaged right away,” Moominmamma said, her paws shaking as she looked him over. “He's still bleeding, badly.”

Snorkmaiden snatched up Snufkin and set off toward Moomin House at a run, Moominmamma close on her heels.

“Moomin, wait,” Mr. Hemulen said when Moomin would have run after them. “We need to take care of this plant.”

“Do you think it was really going to kill Snufkin?” Snork asked, looking up at the Blood Rose and it's morbid blossoms in horror.

“I don't know,” Mr. Hemulen said. “Maybe it's been starved for so long that it would have. Maybe if it had blood regularly it wouldn't. But the people on the island it came from said to leave it be, and they'd nearly gotten rid of it, so I'm not willing to take that chance.” His face hardened as he looked up at the plant. “I'm not risking someone else. Tell your mother there won't be any more victims of this plant. I need some things from the greenhouse and my home. Moomin, will you get them for me?”

Moomin nodded slowly, glancing back towards Moomin House while listening carefully to Mr. Hemulen's list, before turning and racing for Mr. Hemulen's home.

\---XXX---

Snufkin curled into Snorkmaiden's chest as she ran for Moomin House, and she tried not to panic.

She'd never heard him make any noises like those, no matter what had happened to any of them. The scream had been bad enough, but the tiny cries of pain as it had held him up by the wrists...she would hear those in her nightmares.

There was wetness on her chest, Snufkin's shuddering breaths saying clearly that they were tears dampening her fur, and blood on the fur of her arms as the bleeding slowed but had yet to stop.

Snorkmaiden burst into Moomin House and set Snufkin gently on the table, bending to roll up his pant legs, apologizing quietly as she did each time he winced.

He was still holding his wrist, the wrist that had been first gripped by the thorns, and there was blood on his paws as well as soaking into his smock.

Snorkmaiden hesitated before gently taking Snufkin's hat, and motioning that she needed to take off the smock as well.

He stared at her for a few moment uncomprehendingly as Moominmamma approached with the first aid kit before it seemed to sink in past the pain, and Snorkmaiden hurried to unbutton the smock when Snufkin moved and winced in pain. She'd seen Snufkin pull it over his head before without unbuttoning it, but right now, that seemed to be asking too much of his abused arms.

Snufkin was calmer now, but still trembling, and tears still welled in his eyes, tumbling down his cheeks.

He raised a paw to scrub at them, wincing at the pain in his shoulders.

“Easy now,” Moominmamma soothed. “There's no shame in tears, not here.”

Snufkin nodded, unable to speak.

Snorkmaiden bit back her own tears, taking a cloth from Moominmamma to wash Snufkin's left wrist while Momminmamma took his right, the one that had first been caught.

The marks from the thorns were deep and still seeping, and he hissed with each bit of pressure against them, making tiny sounds of pain that he couldn't seem to stop, but didn't pull away.

There were bits of thorn trapped in a few of the wounds, and Snorkmaiden had to press on the skin to get them out, to be able to get a hold of them with the tweezers.

She apologized each time she had to, constant and soft, letting the tears fall as holding them back had started to blur her vision.

Moominmamma handed her the bandages, and she wrapped his wrist, noticing that Moominmamma had already finished his other wrist and was working on his legs, pushing the pants up past his knees to get at all of them.

The leg wounds weren't as deep as the ones on his wrists, but then, he hadn't been held up by them like he had his wrists, and it hadn't gripped as tightly there, and had the still thick cloth of his trousers to protect him.

It flashed in front of Snorkmaiden's eyes, seeing Snufkin held in the air by the vines, his wrists streaming blood as he screamed and fought, doing little more than twisting in midair.

She was on her feet without realizing she was moving, her arms tight around Snufkin.

Moominmamma finished wrapping the last bandage and stood. Snufkin looked at her in bewilderment and she wrapped her arms around them both.

Her paws were shaking. She stroked Snufkin's hair, pressing her snout against it and holding him tight.

“I'm sorry, Snufkin, but...just a little longer,” Moominmamma said softly. “Just...oh, _Snufkin._”

Snufkin could barely move his arms, between the pain in his wrists and the ache in his shoulders, but he managed to move a paw up enough to clutch at Moominmamma's fur, and let himself be held and comforted, trying to return the comfort in his own turn.

He couldn't imagine what it would have felt like for Moominmamma, or for Snorkmaiden, to watch that, and if they needed to cling for a little while then he could let both of them. For as long as they needed.

He couldn't deny that he needed it himself, right now.

The door opened carefully, and footsteps padded across the floor. “Mamma?”

Moominmamma pulled back, wiping at her face, but Snufkin leaned on her still, her arm around his shoulders as Snorkmaiden held onto him. “There you are, Moomin.”

“Mamma, Mr. Hemulen is burning the Blood Rose,” Moomin said solemnly. “You can see the smoke from here.”

The three of them stared at him as the words he'd said refused to make sense.

“But...he loves that plant,” Snufkin said, hoarsely, and Snorkmaiden hurried to fetch water.

“He said he can't forgive what it did,” Moomin said, spreading his paws, which shook. “He thinks maybe it was starving and that's why it was so...but he doesn't care. He said that the people on the island who were trying to get rid of it were right. And to tell Mamma that it won't have any other victims.”

Moominmamma ran her paw over Snufkin's hair again, letting it linger as he drank, Snorkmaiden helping him as his paws shook. “I suppose I feel sorry for Mr. Hemulen, but...”

Snufkin leaned against her more as Snorkmaiden took the glass. “I'm sorry he's losing something he loved, but I'm not sorry it's burning,” Snorkmaiden said, her fur a riot of color. “Not after...” she paused, her paw pressing against her snout before she reached for Snufkin again. “Snufkin's worth more than any roses, no matter how rare they are.”

“I'm sorry I'm fussing,” Moominmamma said quietly, starting to move away from Snufkin.

He shrugged. “It's fine,” he said, rubbing his throat. “After this...”

They looked at each other and understood. After something like this, he could finally accept a bit of fussing, and accept why she might need to, after they'd come so close to losing him.

After hearing him screaming in pain.

And while he wasn't admitting it, right now, he wanted a little fussing.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma made a tea for Snufkin to dull the pain, and checked the bandages again and again, to be sure he wasn't bleeding again. The wounds had closed, but they had come far too close to hitting veins, and it was a miracle they hadn't.

And again and again, she stroked his hair, pressed her snout against his forehead, needing the reassurance for them both that he was safe.

Moominpappa and Mr. Hemulen came by after a few hours had passed, both blackened and smelling of smoke.

“It's gone, every bit of it,” Moominpappa said simply. “We made sure we didn't leave so much as a fallen leaf.”

Mr. Hemulen began apologizing to Snufkin over and over, wringing his paws. He wasn't comforted by Snufkin pointing out that he didn't know the name wasn't fanciful, that none of them had thought it would do this.

“The Institute won't like it,” he said as Moominmamma served up dinner, Moomin hovering as Snufkin made his way to a chair, just far enough off to give Snufkin his space. “But I couldn't let it attack someone else. What if it caught someone smaller that Snufkin? Or when they were alone? Or when I was alone?” He shuddered, looking into his plate despondently. “Oh, it's terrible.”

“Snufkin will heal, and he's already forgiven you,” Moominmamma reminded Mr. Hemulen gently.

“But you're still glad I burned it,” Mr. Hemulen said.

Moominmamma didn't reply, looking into her own plate.

“I'll say it then,” Moominpappa said. “I'm sorry, Mr. Hemulen, but we are.”

“I am too,” Snorkmaiden said, and Snork, on her other side as she and Moomin were flanking Snufkin, with Little My across from them where she could keep an eye on him, nodded along with Moomin and Little My.

\---XXX---

Snorkmaiden hesitated at the door after dinner, coming back inside when Moominmamma reminded her she was free to spend the night.

Snufkin made his slow way up to the guest bedroom, hesitating. Part of him said to go to his tent, but...he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep, replaying what had happened over and over as he tried to sleep. Moomin took his paw, a question in his eyes, and Snufkin nodded in response, letting Moomin lead him up to his room instead.

They paused just inside in surprise.

Little My and Snorkmaiden had filled half the room with pillows, dragging Moomin's mattress into the pile and using blankets to make a fort across half the room.

Snorkmaiden lifted the flap and urged them inside.

Usually, sleeping among so many would mean Snufkin couldn't sleep, but when Moominmamma came to check on them later, waking from a nightmare of a replay of Snufkin's screams, she found them all tangled among each other in the pillows, curled around Snufkin. Moomin to one side, Snorkmaiden to the other, and Little My lying sprawled across all three of them, the three of them clinging together in their sleep, nuzzled close with Moomin's snout tucked atop Snufkin's head and Snorkmaiden's on his shoulder and Little My under his chin.

Chuckling softly, she leaned over them, brushing her snout against each of her children's foreheads before returning to her own bed.

The nightmares would fade. The wounds would heal and scar and fade as well, with time.

But this time, they had each other. Snufkin had them to help him, and he could be there to help them in turn. Together, they would heal from this. 


End file.
